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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372163">Coping Mechanism</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieWendigo/pseuds/MagpieWendigo'>MagpieWendigo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking, Drunk Will Graham, Gen, M/M, Smoking, Whiskey Bottom Will, lots of metaphors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:36:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieWendigo/pseuds/MagpieWendigo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A little flash fic I wrote for the #WhiskeyBottomWill fic roundup hosted by @FannibalFest on twitter!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham &amp; Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whiskey Bottom Will</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coping Mechanism</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hand cupped around a glow of light near the mouth, metallic click as the light goes out, darkness; a smoldering cherry blooms and fades; smoke signals.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought you quit.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something that is not quite a laugh climbs its way out into the cold winter night. “I did. This is a special occasion.” It’s not, but I say it anyway, as if that will justify my near-nightly habit.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The front door opens and closes behind me. I seize the opportunity to drain my glass, knowing my visitor will return soon enough, decanter and extra glass in tow. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hannibal returns- speak of the devil and he shall appear. I make a note to oil the screen door tomorrow.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Make yourself at home, <em>Doctor Lecter</em>.” Maybe a little more snide than I intended, maybe not. Maybe I don’t care. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hannibal reaches out and takes the cigar from my mouth, bringing it deftly to his lips, taking a practiced, precise breath. He closes his eyes as he inhales, the planes and angles of his face sharpened by the moonlight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For just a moment I think he’s incredibly beautiful, in the way one might admire a piece of architecture. Maybe in the way one might admire someone they love. By this time I’m already at least four or five drinks deep, approaching halfway through the bottle, numb to the cold. Sometimes this is the only way I can cope with the insomnia- though I wouldn’t necessarily call it coping. Neither would Hannibal, I think.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m surprised, Will.” Hannibal’s voice lassoes my thoughts and drags me back to the here and now. He’s thoughtfully examining the end of the cigar. I’m thoughtfully examining the way the smoke hanging around his head looks like antlers... or horns.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Surprised?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You do have good taste, at least in whiskey and cigars.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That same, strangled not-quite-laugh breaks through my lips, a harsh puff of vapor that dissipates into the air between us. “I would have thought the old ‘smoke and drink’ routine beneath you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And?” In one fluid motion he tucks the cigar back into my mouth and picks up the decanter to refill our glasses. “I am not so far removed from my humanity as to turn my nose up at some of the more banal pleasures that life has to offer.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Watching him pour, I suck on the cigar and exhale slowly. I think the whiskey looks like blood, splashing from the decanter in a dark, arterial arc. A part of me wishes we were anywhere but here, braving the Virginian winter on my porch, indulging a few of my particular vices. As I dive into my fifth (or sixth) glass of scotch, I discover another part of me wishes we were inside, limbs braiding, boundaries blurred, indulging a different vice altogether.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(I made a few tiny edits to grammar whoops)</p><p>And I’m beyond honoured to announce it was awarded first place 🥰 Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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